


Affect

by theLiterator



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Green Lantern - All Media Types
Genre: Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, M/M, Makeshift Bondage, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 21:53:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4322106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLiterator/pseuds/theLiterator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It was the hair, Bruce decided at the end of a terribly long meeting during which he could do nothing but stare at Hal Jordan and shift uncomfortably in his chair. That was it. Nothing else had changed.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Affect

It was the hair, Bruce decided at the end of a terribly long meeting during which he could do nothing but stare at Hal Jordan and shift uncomfortably in his chair. That was it. Nothing else had changed.

It was this thought that spurred him to the showers after the meeting. He knew no one else would be there and this seemed the sort of thing that didn't belong in the quiet sanctity of the Manor. He had his costume off and his hand on the controls for the water when Jordan himself came blundering in. Bruce froze, thoughts going three directions at once before stopping altogether because Hal's hair was still...

"Hey, are you okay?" Jordan asked, running a hand through his hair. It was a completely familiar nervous habit that normally irritated Bruce, making him wonder why Jordan had no control over his body language. Today it made him nearly swallow his tongue. Nearly.

"I'm fine," Bruce gritted out. "You can go tell whoever traded you monitor duty that."

"I didn't trade-- maybe I was a little bit concerned myself, Bruce. Did you think of that?" Color rose on Jordan's cheeks and Bruce wondered if he'd flush the same way when aroused. He quashed that thought with prejudice.

"No," Bruce said honestly, which provoked a frustrated noise from Jordan. The Green Lantern turned on his heel to leave and lost his balance. It was a stupid thing, and Bruce certainly did not need to drop the towel protecting his modesty to catch him, but he did. Jordan gripped his forearm to regain his balance much tighter than was strictly comfortable.

"Whoa," Jordan said, eyes dropping down, then darting back to Bruce's face, then down again. It was as if Jordan didn't have the will to look away, which was both rude and expected. "That's-- naked. You're... _naked._ "

"You're welcome," Bruce said, letting the short reign he had on his temper show through tone of voice. "Leave."

"I... just don't think I can, Bruce. You look like you could use some... help here. And I did trade monitor duty with Nightwing to come help you."

 _Oh for_ \-- "No," Bruce said, knowing he was growling, knowing he was being rude. "Get out, Lantern."

"I'm pretty sure you don't mean that, Bats, and if you do, well," Jordan licked his lips and finally managed to look Bruce in the eye. "Make me."

Bruce had excellent leverage for the ensuing scuffle, naked or not, and he had Jordan pressed face-first against the shower wall, arm twisted up in a way that had to be painful. Jordan writhed in his grip. "You're not making me _leave_ ," Jordan pointed out, and Bruce should have let go of him there, but he didn't.

"Shut up," he growled, turning Jordan around without letting his hold shift to one that afforded him any less control.

Jordan licked his lips again, and inched his hand over to the shower control, pressing it with his little finger and smirking when the spray started up. Bruce snorted.

"My suit's wet," Jordan said, grinning around the uncharacteristic uncertainty in his eyes.

"You're an _idiot_ ," Bruce snarled. He cupped the back of Jordan's head and tangled his fingers in that ridiculous hair. His other hand caught at the zipper on his flight suit, edging it down.

"Makes you think that, Big B?" Jordan asks, lips shining and tempting and Bruce will not succumb. "Maybe I planned all this."

"You grew out your hai--" Bruce cut himself off, biting the inside of his cheek hard, knowing even as he stopped that he'd said too much. A single wrinkle furrowed Jordan's brow.

"My hair?" he asked. "That-- that's what it takes to drive the Big Bad Bat wild? Long hair? You know, as kinks go, that's kind of--"

Bruce cut him off too, kissing him and using his grip on his hair to tilt his head back so he had better access. His other hand slipped inside Jordan's soaked flight suit of its own accord, resting on his muscled abdomen. He was wholly unsure of where he was allowed to touch.

Hal moaned into the kiss, and he tasted like salt, and suddenly Bruce didn't care about control, or about what he was _allowed_. He drew his hand back up, shoving the flight suit over Hal's shoulders and partway down his arms behind him, then used his grip on Hal's hair to force him to his knees.

Hal went easily enough. The way the wet fabric hobbled him, the swell of his lips, and the droplets of water on his lashes were all too obscene for description, and all were imprinted in Bruce's memory irrevocably.

"Oh, see," Hal said, tilting his head a little to nuzzle the inside of Bruce's wrist, an intimate gesture that should have felt out of place between them but didn’t. "This is more what I figured."

" _Shut. Up._ " Bruce repeated, and Hal smiled up at him with lips not yet bruised enough for Bruce’s tastes.

"Make me," Hal taunted.

Bruce brought his free hand around and pressed his thumb against the vulnerable spot at the corner of Hal's jaw that would make his lips part whether he liked it or not and used his grip on Hal's hair to drag him forward, until the head of his cock was just resting on Hal's bottom lip, and he could feel the hot brush of Hal's breath on him and then--

He thrust forward, and Hal tipped his head back against Bruce's hand and swallowed at exactly the right moment so he didn’t gag which should have surprised Bruce but didn't, and as he continued fucking Jordan's mouth, his grip went looser and less punitive, and still Jordan just _took_ it.

Bruce had to pull an arm up so he could brace himself on the slick tiled wall. The other he drew forward just enough that he could slide his thumb into Hal’s mouth, groaning at the added sensation.

Hal opened his mouth wider, and Bruce kept fucking him, thinking he should stop, turn this into something _else_ , something less base. Hal shifted, drawing back his lips just slightly, and then he could feel the barest edge of Hal’s teeth. 

Sensations swam around him and he tried to pull Hal off, to offer a warning, but Hal’s eyes just fluttered closed. It was that sight that pushed him over. His hips stuttered forward and he achieved his orgasm while still encased in the hot wet of Hal’s mouth.

It took him a moment to come down enough to realize that Hal was fighting with the wet flightsuit. Bruce should have helped him get it off, helped him get into something clean and dry, and offered him reciprocation, but he didn’t. He ignored the way Hal had tangled himself up even worse than when Bruce had pushed him down, and just hauled him up, propping him against the wall so he could kiss him.

He tasted like salt and sex and Bruce chased that flavor, that _thrill_ , groping blindly between them until he could wrap his hand around Hal’s erection.

“Gah—good,” Hal gasped. “Like that, baby.”

Bruce managed to bring him off, which surprised him; Jordan liked to _argue_ with him and he didn’t see why he shouldn’t expect that to extend to sex, after all.

Hal went boneless against his chest, mumbling that Bruce should give him a minute. Bruce ignored him and worked at extracting him from the clinging, wet material of his flightsuit.

The post-orgasmic haze lasted long enough for Bruce to get them both cleaned up, and past that, so Bruce had to settle Hal on the bench in front of the lockers so he could get Hal’s open.

“You don’t have a change,” Bruce said, trying to keep the sudden panic he was feeling from leaking into his voice. Hal blinked sleepily up at him from where Bruce had bundled him up in towels and set him.

“No?” Hal said. “Oh. There was a thing. I meant to bring more.”

Bruce scowled at him, then went to his own locker which had several non-descript outfits suitable for training or relaxation.

Hal was enough smaller that it would be obvious the clothing wasn’t his, but it would be _more_ obvious if he wandered naked through the Watchtower, so he unfolded a t-shirt and turned to Hal.

“Hey, no need to dress me, Spooky, I got this,” Hal protested, snatching the shirt from Bruce and fumbling it on over his head. Bruce tossed him the pants and turned his back so he could dress himself.

“Uh, sorry if this is weird, but I was—is kissing okay?”

“We already kissed,” Bruce pointed out. He had, in fact, _initiated_ the kissing, so it seemed like a rather idiotic question. Which, he supposed, only went to show.

“I meant like… this. After I guess. Without the… sexual tension. You know what? Never mind, Barry’s probably—“

Bruce caught him before he could leave and tangled up his fingers in that long, damp hair again, kissing him with a very different purpose this time.

“Kissing is fine,” Bruce said, pulling back and trying to read Hal’s mood from his expression.

“Yeah, okay,” Hal said. “Uh, okay.”

Hal leaned in for another kiss, and the door swung open, letting in the unmistakable sound of Shazam whistling.

They pulled apart too-hastily, and Bruce’s hand got caught in the damp tangle of Hal’s hair. Hal yelped and Shazam stopped whistling abruptly.

“Green Lantern?” he asked. “B-batman?”

“Get out,” Batman snarled.

“Oh. My. God. I _knew_ it!” Shazam crowed, then he beat a retreat, footsteps echoing loudly down the hall behind him before the door closed.


End file.
